


Strange Currencies

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Diners, Friendship, Gen, Implied Slash, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Series, Pre-Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 06:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6068632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of the world, two survivors run into each other in Los Angeles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Currencies

 

The past year had changed things for Gunn; up was down, black was white, Charlie Murphy was cooler than Eddie Murphy, and he was done with the superhero gig. By choice as much as by injury, what with losing that arm to the dragon and all.

Spike and Angel had left him behind to crusade on into the belly of the beast, and Illyria, apologizing in the creepy Old One way, shrugged and warned him not to die, again, before leaving him behind to live, die, thrive, or fail.

But still. Never did he think he'd be sitting at a Roscoe's Fried Chicken and Waffles with Lilah, who'd pulled a half-assed Delilah, offered him Wolfram and Hart LA out from Angel's feet, and then shrugged and smiled when he told her she was crazy.

"I said that, too," she admitted. "But what the hell, you know? I don't get out much. Nobody trusts me, and I get the feeling if they flash me around too much, someone will find the loophole in my contract because the Powers apparently need the survivors."

Gunn nodded. In fact, it gave him pause, the idea of Lilah working for the Powers, because it didn't seem impossible anymore. Seemed like a good idea, tell the truth, to have someone who could bend her mind around the technicalities and unbend the loops.

He had, most definitely, changed. "I'm sorry about Wesley and all that shit that went down," he said.

"I'm not," Lilah said. "I mean, it sucked beyond the telling to watch him grope Fred, especially knowing that if Angel weren't a self-righteous _idiot_ , where his heart would lie, but I...don't know anymore. Wes was ten forms of batshit crazy, and eternity's a long time to brood about someone who gives up after a simple reality-changing spell."

Gunn nodded along, sipping at his coffee with his good right arm. They didn't look so tough anymore, either of them. Lilah had doffed the suits for jeans and a shirt, and she looked normal except for her scar, which her hoodie mostly disguised. Him, he was fine and sexy on the right, but then there was his sinister side.

"You're not much of a brooder," he said.

"No, I'm more of a fit-throwing schemer," Lilah agreed easily. "Good work with the dragon, by the way."

"Thanks," he said. "Crazy world, isn't it?"

"And getting crazier," Lilah agreed, looking out the window. "It's refreshing, isn't it? Talking to someone who knows what you mean without going into all the history. For example, there are plenty of people who I could tell the Wesley story to, but I think you get why I might have to be over it, regardless of the dead thing."

Her smile told him all he needed to know. "You've got one hell of a memory, lady," he said. "Wesley tell you?"

"Oh, please," said Lilah. "Wesley tell a big gay secret? To go very Alicia for a moment, as _if._ "

Gunn chuckled. "I figured you two were up for any kink or deviancy, so who cares if he and I used to mack, right?" he asked. Lilah shrugged. "Guess not."

"Wes had his own prudish norms," Lilah said. "But he's dead, like so many of us, and despite Angel's valiant last stand, the world still stands, and rotates much the way it always does."

"And what do you want out of it?" Gunn asked, hearing the question somewhere in her voice, in the way she tilted her head and her eyes. Gunn didn't quite have the vocab to express it, being the legal expert, but something was going on in her head and it showed in her eyes.

"There's so much I want, Mr. Gunn," Lilah said, distant eyes. "Mostly I'm between worlds, between teams, and I want a purpose. I used to know what I wanted. To understand, and then to be rich and powerful and pretty enough to tell the world to go to Hell."

"Not so satisfying?" Gunn asked.

"Kind of like eating a deep-fried Twinkie," Lilah admitted ruefully.

"I get that," Gunn said, which earned a surprised and slightly cynical snort from Lilah. "Believe it or not. Thought fighting with the big dogs would make up for everything that went wrong. Losing my folks, losing Alonna, all those kids nobody cared about. Found out that when you fight with the big dogs, you focus on the big, and the little guy..."

"Is still looking for a savior. Or maybe just a job," Lilah finished, and there's this glance between them, and Gunn feels like she gets it. Gets it like most people haven't. Why he's still proud of the job he did at Wolfram and Hart, about why the moments he treasures are small -- touching Gwen's naked back, seeing a little girl smile when she was told she could go in the backyard, Wesley shaking his hand, seems like a hundred years ago, for a job well done.

"You're looking to save the world? Call me cynical, but I don't buy it," Gunn said.

"Didn't say that," Lilah replied. "I said I'm looking to change the world, and I implied that I'm not willing to crash up on the beach next time the big dogs, as you so eloquently put it, catch a wave. Besides, see any self-righteous martyrs at this table?"

Gunn thought about it. Liked what she was suggesting. Liked *her*, the old dragon with a set of dangerous smiles and crazy ideas, because she got it. Got what the mission was supposed to be, even if she'd gone her own way the first time. With the whole world turned upside down and nothing what it seemed, he figured they were both good for a second chance, a third chance, a fifth chance, even.

"You've got the contract."

"And you don't?" Lilah pointed out, and they both laughed bitterly, imagining Angel reading the fine print on a legal document.

"Fair enough," Gunn said. "It's going to be complicated."

"And deadly," Lilah agreed. "Both sides of the war against us, nobody believing a word we say at first, slightly divided purposes...an uphill struggle."

"Plus, we're both flat...oh," Gunn said, watching Lilah slyly palm up credit cards. With Angel's name on them. "Wolfram and Hart pays the bills."

"Let 'em put it on our tab," she said. "To say nothing of the fact that while I am _actually_ dead -- at least until I make a visit to someone I know in Virginia, I'm legally quite alive and able to drain my accounts, and oh, Lindsey, Linwood, and Gavin all named me sole beneficiary to their estates as well."

"So we're a well-heeled pair of do-gooders," Gunn said, suddenly reminded that he had Gwen Raiden's card, and this was the kind of adventure Electro-Girl dug on. If he was going to do the thing, he was going to do it right.

Lilah grimaced. "Can we avoid the 'g' word? It reminds me of Angel, and that gives me hives. Besides, I prefer to think of it as restoring balance to the universe while upgrading what balance is. Changing a few definitions. Doing as we do, not just as we say."

"Not so big on hypocrisy, then?"

"No, not so much," Lilah said. "You in?"

Gunn nodded. She dropped twenty bucks on the table, helped him up, gave him another one of the smiles that made him sort of want to see more. Made him wonder if the adventure was going to be some kind of romance. Not immediately, of course. Too soon.

But there was something about the way they were walking, the way she was looking, that made him want to turn her on, turn her out, figure her out, take her on.

"I don't know why I trust you," he said, the both of them opening the door together. "But I do."

"I know. Strange, huh?" she asked, shivering at the light marine breeze of a Santa Monica evening. "But we're the last ones who know what really happened. Maybe we're the only ones who can stop it from happening again."

"Maybe," he said. "Maybe we're the ones who want to."

"Hey, semantics," she said lightly, leaning up close enough to brush her lips against his if he'd wanted. And again, the strangeness. He wanted. She wanted. But not tonight. Not yet.

She smiled, drew away. "Later, I guess. Come on. I'll give you a ride home."

"What home?" Gunn asked as they headed toward the car and the unknowable future.

"Exactly," Lilah said, opening the door.


End file.
